


Best Laid Plans

by MissMudpie



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-20
Updated: 2015-10-20
Packaged: 2018-04-27 07:02:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,808
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5038474
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissMudpie/pseuds/MissMudpie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>061: "I wanted to surprise you for our anniversary, but everything that could go wrong, did go wrong."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Best Laid Plans

It started innocently enough.

Cisco was in town, dropping off some “awesome” new trick arrows he designed. 

“Hey, Cisco,” Thea called from across the Lair after he’s finished describing the newest explosive arrow. “My rebirthday is coming up, if you need some ideas for what to get me.”

“You birthday isn’t for months,” Oliver retorted. 

“I said my rebirthday,” Thea clarified. “You know, the day I got brought back from the dead? Deserves some celebration, doesn’t it?”

“I actually did have some awesome ideas for your suit…” Cisco’s words faded into the background as Felicity turned her attention back to coding.

It wasn’t until later that night, when they’d returned to the loft and all but collapsed into bed, that she remembers Thea’s words. The intervening three years had helped to soften the harsh reality of her first trip to Nanda Parbat, and just as now her memories of Land Mine Island revolved around a sweaty and shirtless Oliver hovering over her, she remembered the Demon’s Lair for its red satin sheets and candlelight and, well, a sweaty and shirtless Oliver hovering over her. It was the first time she told him she loved him, the first time they made love, and for a few precious hours, it had felt like the beginning of something, rather than the end. 

When they’d been dating – and really, they’d never been just ‘dating;’ they’d driven clear through Casual in a silver Porsche, straight to Living Together and Shared Bank Accounts – but before they’d been married, before they’d been engaged, they didn’t have an anniversary, per se. There wasn’t a set date on the calendar they counted as the Day We Became a Couple. But if she were pressed to choose, wouldn’t she pick that night in Nanda Parbat?

They’d celebrated their first wedding anniversary in Central City, pausing from helping Barry and Team Flash capture their latest Metahuman only long enough to share a quick but very enjoyable shower. They promised to do it right when they returned, but then the holidays were upon them, and then the Triad started making a play again in the Glades, and between their day jobs and their night jobs there hadn’t been any time to get away for the evening, much less the weekend. In fact – 

No. No, her math must be wrong.

It wasn’t. They hadn’t had sex in nine days. And that was counting Oliver getting her off in the kitchen before breakfast. If she took that out of the equation…

Thirteen days.

Well, that wouldn’t do. At all.

Felicity glanced at her husband, sleeping deeply beside her, and decided.

Saturday would be three years since their first time. That gave her four days to get everything ready for their anniversary.

Their sexiversary.

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

Tuesday

“…And that will give us an extra 37 percent battery power.” Curtis’ explanation of his team’s latest innovation was punctuated by a loud sneeze, the third in as many minutes.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Felicity asked again. He’d been twenty minutes late, eyes wet and red, and generally looking just…not good. “Do you want to just go home?”

He waved away her concerns. “It’s just allergies. I’m fine.” He swiped to the next page on the tablet, and his sneezing was forgotten as the discussed how to get Applied Science’s current project back on track to finish in time for the next quarterly meeting.

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

Wednesday

“Mrs. Queen?”

“This is she.”

“This is Gina, from Conchetta’s. You had a reservation for Saturday.”

“Yes…”

“We had a bit of an accident last night and our kitchen will unfortunately be closed until we can clean up all the water damage. I can recommend some other restaurants…”

But Felicity wasn’t listening. She was reading the email from Curtis’ husband, the one explaining why he wouldn’t be coming into work that day.

Turns out, it wasn’t allergies.

0-0-0-0-0-0

Thursday

“I’m fine.”

“You aren’t fine, you fell off a building!” 

“….A short one.”

“The height doesn’t matter!”

“I think it actually does,” Diggle supplied from across the room, and Felicity spun to glare at him.

“You aren’t helping!” she informed him in her Loud Voice. That was why she had a tickle in her throat; she’d been using her Loud Voice since the team had returned, Oliver leaning heavily on Digg and favoring his right leg. Yes, Loud Voice was the only acceptable reason for a semi-sore throat.

“Hey,” Oliver said softly, catching her hand and pulling her close. “It’s a bad sprain. That’s all.”

“How are you going to explain this one to your adoring public?” Thea teased from across the room. “Bike accident again?”

“That one didn’t play too well in the press. Too reckless.”

“Is falling down the stairs going to be any better, though? Hey, you should get a cane!”

“I’m not getting a cane, Thea.”

Felicity tuned out the siblings’ bickering. When his comms had gone out, of course she’d been worried, but now that he was here, alive and well and in front of her, she found her mind turning to more pressing matters. Namely, how they were going to have their sexiversary if Oliver could barely walk. This meant no wall sex, that was sure, which was a shame. No shower sex, either. He probably wouldn’t be able to do much besides lie there…although having a prone Oliver, under her and completely at her mercy, wasn’t necessarily a bad thing. She knew from experience it could be a good thing. A very, very good thi – 

“Felicity?”

“Huh? What?”

Olive gave her a funny look. “You alright? Where’d you go?”

“Nowhere. Nothing. Just, you know.” She waved a hand around in the general direction of her head. “A lot going on in here. When the comms went off…”

“I know.” He hobbled up and placed a kiss on her forehead. “Let me change, and we’ll head home.”

“Sounds good,” she said.

And then she sneezed.

0-0-0-0-0-0-0

Friday

She was not running a fever.

Her throat did not hurt.

Her body did not ache.

Felicity refused to allow these things to be true. So she’d powered through her day (and power napped through lunch) and successfully guided Thea into a Triad warehouse and out again safely, and now she was finally home. It had just been a long week, that was all; a soak in a hot tub and a good night’s sleep was all she needed, and she’d be ready to go for her and Oliver’s surprise sexiversary. She dropped her purse at the base of the stairs, slid one shoe off…

And her phone rang.

“Gerry.” Her tone was one of warning.

“I know, Mrs. Queen, you said not to call unless the building was on fire, but, uh…The building’s on fire.”

“WHAT?!?!”

0-0-0-0-0-0-0

Saturday

It wasn’t the whole building, thank goodness, but rather a small fire in the main server room. Still, it was enough to keep her there all night and into the morning. When she finally did return home a little after nine, it was to an empty apartment. Autopsy report back. Have to go into office for a bit, Oliver’s text had read, and she’d huffed, because she’d accessed that report, on the young girl the Triad had sold into slavery, last night. The Green Arrow had already seen the report, but Mayor Queen hadn’t.

Stupid secret identities.

But it didn’t matter, because today was their sexiversary, dammit, and she was getting laid!

Take your time. I have a surprise for you when you get home.

Felicity dragged herself up the stairs and into the shower. She was able to shampoo her hair, but couldn’t bring herself to lift her arms again to condition it. She brushed half of it before the sink started spinning and she had to lie down for a few minutes.

The next thing she was conscious of was the sound of the door opening downstairs and Oliver’s voice calling her name.

No! She wasn’t dressed, the candles weren’t lit, the champagne wasn’t…Frak! The champagne hadn’t even been bought.

“I’m up here,” she called, and no, her voice did not sound like death warmed over. She sprang out of bed, intent on just throwing on something sexy – the little red number she’d bought in Bali, that would do the trick – when the room rolled around her.

And so did her stomach.

She barely made it to the toilet, which was exactly where Oliver found her.

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

“Well, you got the surprise part right.”

Felicity groaned and threw an arm over her face. She felt the bed dip as Oliver laid down next to her. “I had it all planned out. And then everything went wrong.”

“For our sexiversary.”

“I can hear you smiling.” She removed her arm and tried to glare at him. “Wanting a weekend-long sex marathon with your husband is no laughing matter.”

“I know,” he soothed, the hand on her hip rubbing soft circles. 

“You don’t. I had plans, Oliver. Plans.”

“And we can still do them. Just some other time, when you aren’t running a 102 degree fever and I can actually walk.”

“Psshh,” she said, waving a hand about. “That last one wasn’t an issue. I just figured you’d lie here and I’d have my wicked way on top of you.”

The hand on her hip tightened. “Really?”

Felicity looked up to see Oliver’s eyes darken. She made to sit up. “I can still do that. I’m feeling better.”

Now Oliver did chuckle as he gently pushed her back down. “Felicity, I never thought I’d say this, but – I would really prefer not to have sex with you right now.”

“Is it the hair?”

“I think there’s still soap in it.” He paused. “You also haven’t brushed your teeth since…you know…”

Felicity clapped her hands over her mouth. “Is that bad?”

“No.” He placed a soft kiss on her forehead. “How about we run you a warm bath?”

“Are you going to join me?” She attempt at seduction was way-laid by the frog in her throat.

“I’ll sit on the edge and make sure you don’t drown, that work?”

“I’ll take it.” She sat up and the room spun once more. “But first, I think I need to throw up again.”

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

It was another month before things in Star City had settled down enough to allow them their escape. They left on a Friday afternoon, arriving at the little seaside cottage they’d first rented three years ago by twilight. It wasn’t their official sexiversary, but it was, as Oliver pointed, the anniversary of them choosing to be together, of the start of their new life as a couple. They planned the trip together, and it went off without a hitch.

The surprise came three weeks later, when the stick changed from one line to two.


End file.
